Impacting Events: A place where hope went to die
One of the most impacting events of my Christian walk actually happened before I was became a Christian.
I come from a small town about 70 miles north of the Twin Cities. In the late 70's, the Lutheran Church decided that it needed to add on to it's sanctuary. No big deal. The Catholic Church decided it needed to do the same. Once again, no big deal, but then the Lutherans decided that they needed a new steeple, thus causing the Catholics to need a foyer and so on. By the time it was all said and done, there where two brand new million dollar churches in one of the more economically depressed areas of Minnesota at the time.
The bus I road back and forth to school went by one of the edifices daily. I can still remember how bright the new red brick facade and how deep black the new pavement were. But the thing that impressed me the most was the trailer park across the street. These weren't double wides, nor even singles: They where travel trailers that were parked and rented out. It was the place single teenage mothers went when they had their second kid before 18, after burning all their bridges with their families and the only thing they had was their welfare check. It was the place where pedophiles and other abusive types looking for weak women would go to prey (and I mean hunt). The kids getting on and off the bus there where dirty, their clothes worn thin, their spirits worn thinner. It was a place where hope went to die.
Every day, that shiny new steeple cast it's shadow over them like a sundial. Every Sunday, the bells would ring, calling the faithful. People who went to this nice, shiny new church hurried in from the cold while there were people freezing across the road. They held pancake breakfast while right next door, people went hunger. And I, fourteen at the time, a nonbeliever, knew in my heart that something was wrong with this picture. I knew there was light being hid under a bushel basket, if there was any light at all.
Here was a church, the denomination not important, that was supposed to reach out to the poor, father the fatherless, feed the hungry, help the needy, caught up in a battle of "keeping up with the Jones'" and ignoring those God had set right with in the very shadow of their building.
The whole affair hardened my heart towards Christianity. For years it was the example I gave to explain why I thought Christianity was a crock. Even after Jesus, through His incredible grace and mercy, saved me, I was still bitter towards the Church. For a while I misplaced my aggression and acted out towards a particular denomination, but as I grew and matured, I came to realize that, yes, there was something wrong with that situation.
That whole event greatly impacted me, and still does today. When I hear of churches spending money on things like bells when the hungry and poor are with in listening distance, it makes my blood boil. Where does the Sermon on the Mount and Isaiah 61 come into play for these people? Compassion isn't something dealt out by a committee with a check book. Mercy isn't a policy. The essence of the Sermon on the Mount is getting our hands dirty working next to 'sinners' and 'publicans' and living out the gospel in our everyday lives with everyday people. The "build it and they will come" mentality so many churches have fails to reach the community. I don't believe the hope man is looking for resides in a building. I despise the 'if we can only get them to church' attitude. We are the church. We are the temple of the Holy Spirit. The power to touch lives lives within us, and we are called to shine the hope, love, grace and mercy of Christ into those around us. That is not something a building can do, and yet so many expect it to.
Today, the trailers are gone and new houses replace them. Have the poor been helped or merely displaced?
Yes, I understand the socio-political-economic factors behind so much of the poverty we enconter in the United States: Bad Choices. Don't have kids out of wedlock, finish school and go on to college, and so on. But some times the people God puts before you don't understand those issues or have never heard of them, and instead of condemning them for their poor decisions, we are to love them as Christ does.
Lord, please show me how to put legs to your Gospel. Show me how to truly live out you call.
I come from a small town about 70 miles north of the Twin Cities. In the late 70's, the Lutheran Church decided that it needed to add on to it's sanctuary. No big deal. The Catholic Church decided it needed to do the same. Once again, no big deal, but then the Lutherans decided that they needed a new steeple, thus causing the Catholics to need a foyer and so on. By the time it was all said and done, there where two brand new million dollar churches in one of the more economically depressed areas of Minnesota at the time.
The bus I road back and forth to school went by one of the edifices daily. I can still remember how bright the new red brick facade and how deep black the new pavement were. But the thing that impressed me the most was the trailer park across the street. These weren't double wides, nor even singles: They where travel trailers that were parked and rented out. It was the place single teenage mothers went when they had their second kid before 18, after burning all their bridges with their families and the only thing they had was their welfare check. It was the place where pedophiles and other abusive types looking for weak women would go to prey (and I mean hunt). The kids getting on and off the bus there where dirty, their clothes worn thin, their spirits worn thinner. It was a place where hope went to die.
Every day, that shiny new steeple cast it's shadow over them like a sundial. Every Sunday, the bells would ring, calling the faithful. People who went to this nice, shiny new church hurried in from the cold while there were people freezing across the road. They held pancake breakfast while right next door, people went hunger. And I, fourteen at the time, a nonbeliever, knew in my heart that something was wrong with this picture. I knew there was light being hid under a bushel basket, if there was any light at all.
Here was a church, the denomination not important, that was supposed to reach out to the poor, father the fatherless, feed the hungry, help the needy, caught up in a battle of "keeping up with the Jones'" and ignoring those God had set right with in the very shadow of their building.
The whole affair hardened my heart towards Christianity. For years it was the example I gave to explain why I thought Christianity was a crock. Even after Jesus, through His incredible grace and mercy, saved me, I was still bitter towards the Church. For a while I misplaced my aggression and acted out towards a particular denomination, but as I grew and matured, I came to realize that, yes, there was something wrong with that situation.
That whole event greatly impacted me, and still does today. When I hear of churches spending money on things like bells when the hungry and poor are with in listening distance, it makes my blood boil. Where does the Sermon on the Mount and Isaiah 61 come into play for these people? Compassion isn't something dealt out by a committee with a check book. Mercy isn't a policy. The essence of the Sermon on the Mount is getting our hands dirty working next to 'sinners' and 'publicans' and living out the gospel in our everyday lives with everyday people. The "build it and they will come" mentality so many churches have fails to reach the community. I don't believe the hope man is looking for resides in a building. I despise the 'if we can only get them to church' attitude. We are the church. We are the temple of the Holy Spirit. The power to touch lives lives within us, and we are called to shine the hope, love, grace and mercy of Christ into those around us. That is not something a building can do, and yet so many expect it to.
Today, the trailers are gone and new houses replace them. Have the poor been helped or merely displaced?
Yes, I understand the socio-political-economic factors behind so much of the poverty we enconter in the United States: Bad Choices. Don't have kids out of wedlock, finish school and go on to college, and so on. But some times the people God puts before you don't understand those issues or have never heard of them, and instead of condemning them for their poor decisions, we are to love them as Christ does.
Lord, please show me how to put legs to your Gospel. Show me how to truly live out you call.
Posted by Surly Dave on
Sunday, February 11, 2007
